Of Blackest Hate
by Elenlor Edhelen
Summary: Legolas comes to Rivendell to visit Elladan and Elrohir. Everything's going fine - until the first body is found, the killer has powerful allies, and a master who will do whatever it takes to gain just one servant more.
1. Awaited Arrival

Disclaimer: So I don't own anything! Not Elladan, not Elrohir, not Legolas . . . Why? Why?

This is my first story, so please comment on it. I appreciate any and all comments and suggestions.

Chapter 1: Awaited Arrival

The dark-haired elf peered into the distance anxiously, but even his keen silver eyes could not spot the much awaited guest. Elladan continued gazing into the distance ever so intently. Their visitor was nowhere in sight. And . . . Where was Elrohir? The elder twin had a sneaking suspicion that wherever his brother was, this mystery would end with him getting soaked. He peered out once more, and could now just make out a pale horse carrying a fair-haired rider in the distance. "Elrohir!" He excitedly called out. "Come out and greet our guest!"

Swift, silent footfall carried the younger twin to his brother."So he's here?"Elrohir called out.

"Not quite!"

Two pairs of watchful silver eyes gazed at the approaching rider. Each fluid, rippling motion of his galloping steed brought him closer to his destination. Elladan thought brightly of their friends last visit. That had been decades ago of course, not long, yet too long. Or if you asked Elrond, not long enough. A smile crossed his fair face as he remembered the events of that visit. Every imaginable prank had been played, not all of them on the person intended. Ada had been the unintended target of many jokes. The bucket of water Elrohir had meant for him, the bag of flour he had meant for Legolas, the soapy floor Legolas had meant for Elrohir....There had been many more. Of course there were also the countless pranks that had hit their intended targets. The smile that had crawled across his face widened as the fair rider dismounted his steed.

The pale haired elf silently ran to the brothers, who greeted him with open arms. Sapphire eyes shone with joy as his friends embraced him. "It has been far too long!" He cried with great cheer. "'Tis good to be here" He added. Then, with a devilish grin disclosed "Though I'm not sure how lord Elrond feels about my presence." His blue eyes twinkled "How does Lord Elrond feel about my presence?"

The twins exchanged befuddled looks. Unspoken words exchanged between them. Neither spoke, the awkward silence echoing as a light breathe swept through their silky black hair. Elrohir nudged Elladan in the ribs lightly. The elder twin finally spoke "Ada?" He asked quite innocently, casting the burden to Elrohir, who scowled darkly.

"He was.....Uh....Fine!" He said jerkily, once more giving Elladan a dirty look. The younger twin however failed to include word of the mild curses the Lord of Rivendell had muttered under his breath as he rushed off to warn his staff.

The pale haired elf gave his friend a whimsical glance, nodding rather disdainfully. With that, the three elves walked into the Last Homely House.

Unbeknownst to them all, a dark figure peered from behind a grove of trees. All but hateful pale green eyes seemed to be one with the shadows, with the shadows that were pale as freshly fallen snow in comparison to a black heart.

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Bottom of Form 1


	2. A Blood Curdling Shriek

Disclaimer: I don't own them! They belong to Tolkien! sobs

A/N: Hopefully, this will make up for the shortness of the first chapter! Review please! Here's number 2! Things will be getting a bit more . . . Exiting this chapter. The Elvish: .I will put all the translations. Let me know of any mistakes. I'm getting all of this from different Elvish/English dictionaries, except for the measly amount of words I've memorized. So here goes! Hope ya'll like it!

**Silvertongue**: Thank you my first reviewer! Here is what happened! I'm very glad this interests you.

**Joee1**: I'm glad you think this is interesting! Hope you enjoy this chapter!

**Namarie02**: Thank you for mentioning my stupid error. That's what I get for entering words into the computer at two a.m.

Chapter 2: A Blood Curdling Shriek

The three elves walked up to the door, Elrohir leading the way. "Guests first!" He cheerfully proclaimed, gesturing towards the door. Legolas gave him a glance, looking back at Elladan. He knew. The two smiled at each other, the course of action decided.

"Why don't you lead the way?" Legolas said, a devilish grin creeping across his fair face. He had Elrohir trapped and he knew it. Elladan also smiled as he watched his likeness step into the trap he'd set for others.

Warm laughter rang through the halls of The Last Homely House. Elrohir stood near the door to the main hall, soaked to the skin. He frowned bitterly as Legolas and Elladan struggled to hold back tears of mirth. 'My own prank!' he though bitterly. This was the moment the Lord of Rivendell chose to appear to greet his guest.

Elrond did not seem pleased. He muttered something about a new record under his breath as he beheld the sight, not overly unusual for the company, but all the same . . . A very soaked and very bitter Elrohir stood, arms folded while Legolas and Elladan laughed their hearts out Not exactly normal. The three of them did not notice the angry figure for a while. Elrohir caught sight of him first, Elladan looked up, the connection he shared with his brother alerting him to his father's presence. Pale blue eyes met stern silver ones barely moments later.

"Quel re Brannon Elrond" Thranduil's heir managed, his pale face flushed a shade of crimson from laughter and embarrassment alike. (_Good day Lord Elrond.)_

The Lord of Rivendell returned the greeting "Quel re Cund Legolas" (_Good day Prince Legolas.)_

Elladan's silver eyes glazed his duplicate's dripping figure as he fought back yet another wave of laughter. "Ada!" He finally uttered between deep winded breaths. (_Father)_

Elrohir frowned bitterly, arms still folded. "It's not that funny!" He fumed. This only caused Legolas and Elladan to laugh harder. "Auta miqula orqu!" he exclaimed._ (Go kiss an orc.)_

Elrond frowned at his younger son's remark. Yet even the stern Lord of Imladris could not resist a smile at Elrohir's soaked and infuriated form.

He was not granted the time to react to the words.

A piercing scream echoed through the halls of the Last Homely House. A scream of pure terror and shock. Then, the acute hearing of elves heard a silvery voice they knew only too well mutter the words "So much blood . . . So much blood." The collapse of a slender form was audible.

"Arwen!" The younger twin called out, his soaked state forgotten. Elladan and Elrohir sped off towards from whence their sister's cry came, Legolas following them closely. The kitchen, it had to be the kitchen, Elrohir was certain. He ran ahead, the other, following him.

He came to the room in question, stopping abruptly and looking around. What he saw brought terror into his heart. "Aiya!" He called out. Two prone figures lay on the ground, soaked in crimson, one of them the blood-drenched Evenstar. (_Oh!)_

A/N: MUAHAHAHA! Evil cliffie! Is Arwen dead? What happened? Stay tuned for the next chapter! If all goes well it might be up by tomorrow, but to be safe I'll say no later than Thursday.


	3. A Warning to the Wise

Disclaimer: Nothing's mine with an exception to the elves you won't recognize. ! Damn it! Although I wish, some stuff was.

A/N: Here is my chapter three! Things are going to get more angsty from here on.. I will start replying reviews and for originalities sake, I'll put 'em at the beginning if there gets to be a lot (big if, I refuse to judge my own story and do not know if it is worth reading or not) I'll move 'em to the end. Again, the Elvish is all from a dictionary and the Elvish names of all of my made up elves are from a book of Elvish names. Feel free to state wether you think I should kill of Arwen or not in your reviews, even though the psycho at the keyboard might decide to spite the majority /cough/ Please leave a review! please leave a review/cough/ Sorry for the typos with Elrohir's name. I entered the names of all the characters in the word thing-a-mabob for my word processor and I entered his wrong and it kept changing it...And ugh...So complicated. Well, I've fixed it now so no worries! Here it is! Kinda short, but the next chapter's almost done and I want this up so I can get that up.

**M'res**: Sorry, Arwen's not dead...Yet Muahahahaha She might just find herself in a pool of her own blood one of these days, or she might not. Can't put stuff that angsty in the first three chapters at any rate.

**Joee1**: Yes...Damn machine I call a computer! Let us kill it! Instead of Arwen!

**Purplefluffychainsaw**: Yes, Elrohir did deserve it...But we all still love him. Here it is!

Chapter 3: A Warning to the Wise

Elladan rushed to his sister's side. He feltfor apulse, and found her heart was racing "She's alright!" the dark haired elf called out, relieved. No reply was heard. Elladan turned. A crowd was gathering around the other prone figure. His duplicate and Legolas stood somewhat apart, gazing at all the blood. There was so much...Just so much.

Finally, someone spoke."But Melde's not" The elder twin gazed at the speaker. It was the elf that had been his sister's nurse when she was younger, Melime. She was one of the elves that had come to Rivendell with Celebrian. Though awfully petite for an elf, she seemed to dwarf many others with her willful nature.Melimehad beenwonderful nurse, the pale haired elf's celedon gaze seemed to calm young elflings. Yet she was rash, quick to act and slow to realize mistakes. "Melde gwanwen." (_Melde's dead.)_

Suddenly, another voice broke the hostility."En!' Legolas cried out, filled with awe and horror at his gruesome discovery, concern upon his fair Elvish face "There is writing in the blood! 'A warning to the wise.'" He paused for a second. "That is all it says...That's all the killer said..." (_Look.)_

"A message in blood" Elrohir proclaimed. "One could only imagine what this bloodthirsty animal is capable of" His silver eyes shone in fury. This...Thing had attacked his peaceful home. A murder like this would certainly be followed by more death. More blood. More poor young elves like this child mercilessly slaughtered. And for what reason? Why? Why was this creature killing such innocence?

Elladan gave his brother a gentle glance, understanding his thoughts. He clasped his double's shoulder in a comforting way. His smile was forced, yet soothing. "We'll try our best to stop it"

Unbeknownst to them all a soft whisper sounded in the midst of a full, exited crowd. "You can't imagine what I'm capable of. Try hard as you might. Your best will never be enough"


	4. The Hunters and the Hunted

Disclaimer: Not mine, never will be. collapses sobbing I do own the elvses you don't know though hiss. Eep! Maybe I should watch and read LotR less. But then again . . . NO WAY!

Sorry that took so damn long. I have an announcement! This will be done in three separate stories. This one will last a long while though, and it won't really have anything to do with the main evil that is now talked about in the summary. The gremlin that hides my stuff took the notebook where my almost completed chapter was and replaced it with a plot bunny. So after I got really mad at it and foolishly killed it instead of torturing the notebook's whereabouts out of it, the plot bunny grew. Now the plot is much better. Also the plots for the like, ten other ideas I had. Especially the best idea I had. Yes, I do have another fic coming soon. I found the notebook and here is the information it contained. Wait. Here are the review replies first. Sorry for those of you passed over in previous review replies.

**Legolas-Aragorn-r-hot**: I'm glad you like my story. And yes, the twins ROCK!

**Purplefluffychainsaw:** hangs head in shame That was a long update. That one was just a very little spooky. The story will get spookier. And you. Must update. Ha! I found a way to tell you after using up my one review for the chapter!

**Slivertongue:** hangs head in shame again Glad you think so!

**yamie yukyuu**: Thanks! I'm really flattered. The chapters will be getting longer from here, and I'm not dead! Still writing!

**Joee1**: That one was disgustingly short wasn't it . . . Not to worry! This one will be longer! And I say . . . Yes to longer chapters! Sorry, no Arwen death in this story. Actually, Arwen has an incredibly small part in this. I'm not sure she'll appear again until the end of the second story, where she'll also have very little importance. Here's the next chapter!

**hyperactive forever**: ANGST! does her angst dance I lovelovelove angst. You can tell cause of the lyrics of my favorite song, and the story I'm writting. Twin angst? You'll get PLENTY. I'm glad you like!

Chapter 4:The Hunters-And the Hunted

Three elves stood close together, in a triangle, clad in white nightclothes, pale as the cloth with worry. Two of them stared into each other's eyes like mirrors, seeing their exact image staring back at them. Identical pairs of shifty silver eyes darted toward the golden haired, pale blue-eyed elf that stood near the twins every few moments.

Another death. In the black of the night. Another hidden message presumed, but not yet found.

It had been a young maid named Alasse. A most darling young thing, little more than an elfling. Many would be sad. She had been fair, even for an elf. Dark haired, with deep blue eyes like the damask night sky lit up by a million stars. She was well-liked, sweet to all.

"She was so young." A gaunt Elrohir proclaimed. "She was innocent"

It was not yet dawn. The sun had not yet shown a ray of pure light upon the damask sky. Already. The new day had come to greet death. The light of dawn had never come for yet another elf.

"We should find the message. I'm quite sure there will be one." The clear voice of Legolas rang out, breaking the black silence that had crept over the three. "This . . . Thing. It means to tell us-" He broke off, pale blue eyes windows into his thoughts. Mirrors to his reflections. How horrible a way of being heard this was. "-Something" We can't ignore it" He scanned the gaunt faces of his companions, his eyes speaking before his voice was heard. "As much as I wish we could. I do not think we have a choice this time"

The twins exchanged a glance, unspoken words flashing in their silver eyes. A dark silence once more fell over the company. This was beyond understanding of beings that had spent centuries upon centuries on earth. To kill your own kind in cold blood. This was unfathomable. This vile thing destroyed heartlessly. The killings so brutal, the victims so innocent.

Finally Elladan spoke, his eyes sad and full of questions that would remain unasked, his clear voice little more that a whisper "It won't be hard to find" He paused, recalling the sight of the mangled figure in the center of a room that seemed completely covered in her blood. The memory of the horrible sight pouring an emoticon the others did not recognize though silver optics. "How I long to stay away from that place forever, yet we have no choice."

Three pairs of jewel bright eyes met once more. The thoughts of the moment were understood. The bond of the twins seemed to expand to Legolas for one brief moment. There was much more blood, just so much more. Each recalled the body, once fair face so pale, so drawn by pain; eyes so tightly shut; so bright a light extinguished. And the river of crimson that once flowed beneath delicate skin everywhere.

Legolas took the lead, each silent footstep harder to take. Bracing himself, he entered the room. Her screams of agony had torn him from a restless sleep. A swift gait had taken him down the hall. She lay dead. Blue eyes closed forever, never to light up a room with their joy. Her slender form seemed a small island in a vast sea of blood. And her ruthless killer? Gone. Gone like the young elf's light. Now Legolas walked back to the place of horror. The room of blood. The room forever labeled the room of death, in his mind. The room he never again wished to see. A breath of unbloodied air was drawn as he stepped inside for the last time, his identical friends following.

Elrohir shut his silver eyes for a moment, resting dark lashes on pale cheeks. Silver orbs once more set their sight upon the wretched place, tears threatening to fill them. The fair elf would rather be anywhere. Anywhere other than this slaughter house, where he felt the emotions of two. Elladan's rage welled up within him, mingling with the misery that already resided there. He began to scan the walls, searching for the message that need be found.

The heart of Thranduil's heir was heavy. Weighed down with remorse. Thoughts echoed through his mind. 'What if I had woken earlier?'. 'What if I had run faster?' Thoughts that burned.

Elladan could almost taste the remorse floating through the room. He saw the thoughtful expression of a fair face, the guilt in pale blue eyes, the weight on a pure heart. "'Tis not your fault," Elrond's eldest proclaimed gently. "You came as fast as anyone could mellon nin." Pausing for a second, he added "Probably faster" Forcing a smile to cross his delicate features for the sake of a friend.

Another forced smile echoed his, a whispered reply breaking through thick air. "I know-but-" A shuddering deep breath escaped him. Eyes shut for a moment, the fair elf's abalaster skin pale in the shadowy halls. I think that even though I couldn't have saved her, I might have at the very least glimpsed the killer" Legolas sighed, sapphire eyes scanning the sea of red that engulfed the room as if to say 'Maybe I could have made sure this never happened again'.

Elrohir's silver eyes glazed over the once white walls, a few tiny spots of white caught his gaze. He focused weary eyes, he was tiered. The sheer stress the killer's actions put upon the city exhausted each elf within it. Elrond's youngest was no exception. An already fair face paled as his slate eyes skimmed the minuscule letters. "The unescapable fate" The younger twin softly read.

A voice so like his own echoed him. "The unescapable fate" His duplicate whispered. "I guess it means-" Elladan broke off, eyeing the wreckage the once fine room now was, and the graceful figure that had met it. "-This". He finished with a sigh.

A solemn line left the room. The house of Elrond was stirring. They'd all know soon. Soon, each elf who'd been too tangled in a web of nightmares to stir upon those piercing screams would know what had become part of their gruesome dreams.

Once more, three elves stood quiet in the halls that were now filled with the bustle of early morn. The silence that hung over them became unbearable, suffocating, stifling.

"We should tell Adar!" Elrohir finally exclaimed, the few moments of heavy silence far too much.

"He shall know soon enough" His mirror image said with a sigh

"He should hear it from us!" The youngest son of Lord Elrond stated firmly.

"It does not matter:" Elladan countered.

Yet another argument began.

"Us!"

"No!"

"Us!"

"**No**!'

"**Us**!"

"**Stop!**" Legolas cried, distress upon his fair face. "I can't bear this! It would hurt no one if his sons told him."

Elrohir walked to Lord Elrond's chambers, a smug expression on his face. His twin lagged, reluctantly dragging his feet as he silently followed Legolas down the long hallway. The distance between them and their destination melted away quickly, silent footsteps fast as they walked down the well decorated hall.

Legolas did not pay attention to the splendor around him as he usually did. He did not allow his mind to drift to the many pranks that had been played there, nor the many times that laughter had echoed through the now sombre hallways of the Last Homely House upon their discoveries. Now he focused on the task at hand. The Mirkwood Prince suspected Elrond may aleady know. The Lord of Imaldris knew a great many things. And he knew them as well as Legolas knew that this would not be the last innocent 'The Creature' killed. The insatiable blood-lust of this thing...It just wouldn't stop. So much blood...

_A scream pierced the stillness of the night. Nay, screams. Heart shattering screams of pain and terror. Such pain..._

_The Prince of Mirkwood woke with a start, frantic cries boring into his immortal soul. He thought them figments of a nightmare, yet shriek after shriek sounded as pale blue eyes lost the glaze of sleep. A jolt from his warrior instinct and Legolas was on his feet. He hardly knew was happening as he silently sprinted down the hallway in the direction from whence the screams came. _

_Slender hands yanked at the knob of a door. The frantic screaming had subsided, but this was the right room. Legolas flung it open with certainty. The sight he beheld was dreadfull. Blood. Everywhere. Sticking to the walls and floors like paint. Pale blue eyes inspected the dreadfull scene. The floor was awash in a sea of red. There had been a struggle. When it was over, he suposed the beast had bled it's helpless victim, spreading the crimson fluid over the room. The signs of a struggle were evident though, he could see the fight in his mind's eye. A crack in the wall showed where the young she-elf had finally met her downfall. Bloody handprints disfigured the clear glass windows which she'd used to try to support herself as consiousness began to slip her. _

_The tormented slender form lay sprawled in the center of the room, bathed in her own blood. She was so young, so fair. Death had not marred flawless features. Youth still radiated from her still warm body. Sapphire eyes painfully examined the young elf's fallen figure. _

Elrohir nudged the door to his father's room open. "Ada?" he softly called, peering in.

"I know what tidings you bear ion nin." Elrond said gravely. Then his tone changed to that of a healer, a father, "Poor thing, poor young thing" (_My son)_

Elrohir was relived. He did not know how to shape the words unspoken agreements demanded he say. How to tell his Ada. How to say that his people were being preyed upon and that they had become pawns in a dangerous game-Things to be taken at will and opprotunity. The youngest son of Elrond Peredhel felt such great remore at this relief. His consience poked at him. He felt guilty because he still felt. He felt relief, remorse, misery, joy-He just felt. While one so young lay dead.

The Lord of Imaldris saw the unmasked feelings of his child. The emmotional eyes told all. Pangs of guilt, and pure misery. "It is not your fault ion-nin"

"I know Ada, and yet-" The fair being said, brow still furrowed "-I find myself guilty of life. I live on, while one so innocent lies dead." The graceful elf gave a mournfull glance

Elladan silently storde to his twins side, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. "I know, I know" And he knew. The elder twin knew his brother's emmotions as well as he knew the rage that boiled within him. His silver eyes gave the brother he cherished a look of pure concern. He was older. He was meant to be the stronger. So now he had to be storng. He pushed aside his own feelings. Forgot his own worries. Or pretended to. The rage, the hatered and the deeply burried sadness welled up withing him--yet he stood strong. Elrohir could break down. But he could not--Would not.

The fair Prince of Mirkwood remained silent. His face betrayed no emotions. The very air about him seemed calm, dignified, and collected. But the battle inside raged. Inner turmoil weakened him to the point where he just wished he could come crashing to the cold marble floor. Asan elf, the loss of immortal life was always saddening. But this-This emotionless waste of it-was shocking. The heir of Thranduil knew what his friends felt. Their peacefull home was under full-scale attack-From the inside. Legolas knew how they felt. The young Prince had long ago been forced to watch Greenwood the Great, the greatest of all forests, become consumed by darkness. Become Mirkwood: Where the darkness did reside. His home was newly freed. He had fought for that freedom. Yet the name Mirkwood clung to it, a reminder of darker times. The Mirkwood Prince. That title also rmemained. He knew how they hurt.

Quite suddenly, a distraught looking golden haired elf rushed into the room-Melime. "Brannon!" She called out, celadon eyes a vision of distress. Those soothing eyes then took in the sight around her. The darkened look on Elrond's face, the forlorn expressions both his sons wore, and the emotionless masque of their guest. They knew. (_Lord)_

"We know Melime, we know" Elrond said gently, his gaze shifted to the misery his sons wore, and the hidden emotions of his friend's child. 'They shouldn't have to feel this way'. He needed to distract them somehow.

Melime understood. The younger elves did not have to stew in the blood of Rivendell, and so they should not. A diversion was nescasary. Her pale green eyes flashed as an idea illuminated her mind. "Perhaps the young lords and Prince Legolas should take off on a hunt Brannon?"

Elrond mused for a moment. Hunting. . .It would be an excellent distraction for the three archers. "Wonderfull idea" The Lord of Imaldris said, forcing a warm smile to cross the ster features of his face for the sake of the elf who'd been a nurse to his three children as well as a constant companion of his wife. Even in the den of the orcs. He took his mind from that dark topic "That is, if they choose to go." It was more of a question than a comment. Yet he could answer it himself.

The three avid hunters exchanged a glance. Passing up an opprotunity to leave the bloodbath unsupervised? That would be pure insanity. At least to rash, young royalty. Elladan was quick to answer. "We choose to go!"

At that moment, the thoughts of murder and blood were forced from the minds of three elves. Hunting would be a distraction. Not just for them, but for all. A hunting trip required much preparation.

"We'll make a list of supplies" Elrohir said, truthfully smiling. They'd need many. Where the three went, trouble followed. No matter whose kingdoom, not matter which forest. Spiders, orcs, hatefull men. Each other. Never did they have a peacefull trip.

"We'll need food" Legolas said, grinning. Though elves were usually silent when the need arose, hunting for game turned to hunting each other. Hunts filled the forest with furious yelps and curses of all sorts. Any wild animal with half a brain could figure out that they were in the woods yet again.

"Some medicine would be usefull" Elladan said, musing upon the number of arrows that seemed to go astray when one was doubled over with laughter. Then his thoughts turned to moments more serious, when life threatening wounds of war needed treatment.

"Much clothing" Elrohir mumbled, fighting back fits of laughter as he remembered the bright pink Legolas had dyed Elladan's last extra tunic on their last venture, and the countless sets of clothing that ended up soaked. He sobered as his mind drifted to the tunics sacarificed to put pressure on life-threatening wounds after battles of one sort or another.

"Someone will ready your bows" Elrond said raising an eyebrow at the supressed laughter of the three.

"Wel'll need-" Elrohir began

"-many-" Legolas cut in.

"-arrows." Elladan finished.

Elrond's eyebrows threatedned to merge with his dark hair. The mighty Lord of Imaldris could only manage a simple "I shall" as he conimplated the reasons for that remark. He gavethem an estranged glance and regained his composture adding "Meaniwhile, gather your clothes. You said you'd need much." Then, as he turned and left the room, gliding footsteps taking him down the hall to issue orders, a melodic laugh slipped through his lips.

Elladan, Elrohir, and Legolas separated to prepare. As soon as the glow of companionship faded, gloom, uncertainty and dread settled back in. Each made a cow, the feelings wound be fought. The weapons? Pranks, jokes, teasing, and laughter galore. And so they fought, intrecate plans forming in their heads.

The Prince of Mirkwood decided on a few items that he would not be wearing, dubtifully hidden beneath many tunics and large amounts of leggings small vials and bottles were carefully stowed away. A develish grin lit up his fair face. This would be the best hunt yet.

Elrohir was ever gratefull for the secret layer at the bottom of his canteen. A small canvas pouch was neatly placed there. Minuscule boxes were pushed into the legos of leggings. Slender hands enclosed delicate tubes in padding and gently tucked then into the sleeves of several tunics. He then placed a coil of wire at the bottom of his pack, covering it with the tunics and leggings he'd used to disguise other secrets. Atop those, Elrohir piled more garments that had nothing to hide. A smile of satisfaction crept over his features. "This shall be the best one yet" He stated firmly, silver eyes a-twinkle.

Carefully coiled loops of ropes were placed between tunics and leggings chosen for the trip. Elladan was cautious, he didn;t bring anything he'd miss. The last hunt's fiasco with his favorite tunic and some very well made pink dye had left him wiser, yet with one tunic less. A large bottle was added to his pack. A grin glimered across his face. 'The best one yet' He thought, 'The best one yet'.

The weapons were hastily delivered by the grief stricken maid, Vane, who had been put to the task. She seemed anxious to get away from the lethal weaponry. And him. Legolas suposed she had been a friend of the victim. He figured word that he had found the body had gotten around. Hastily pushing such dark thoughts from his mind, the fair elf grabbed what he'd been seeking. A legnth of rope. The Prince of Mirkwood wound it around his knives. However, before placing the weapons in the pouch on his quiver, he inserted them into a tall cylinder of sorts first. A sawed off canteen. A makeshift bucket.

So thus they set out. Fighting to keep dark thoughts from their minds and pranks in their hearts.

Unbeknownst to them a dark figure watched from where none should see. "Come now my darlings, come." Emerald eyes flashed darkly as an evil smile crossed her face.

Brief A/N: Hehe..Couldn't leave it fluffy could I? This chapter is cursed. My late Gremlin, may its evil soul burn, stole my notebook and hid it. Guess who killed it without torturing it for information first? The teachers kept asigning projects. And to make matters worse, the system failed and deleted some unsaved information. Eek. Cursed chapter. And you just read it.


	5. Papercut

Disclaimer: Tolkein, Linkin Park, End of story! I may wish I owned Legolas, Elladan, Elrohir, and Glorfindel but I don't. All I own of them are books and DVDs. All I own of Linkin Park are two CDs which I listen too fanatically. All in all, I own zip, zilch, zero, nada, nothing except the evil creature who taunts Elly. Do I really have to claim it?

A/N: Thanks to all the reviewers who stayed with me throughout the long break! Hope those of you who left come back! Review! The invisible muses and my visible muse Lómine the Evil is hungry! They need reviews so they can catch plot bunnies! So anyways, I love reviews and the more I get the faster I update. I also update fast when I'm home sick during Spring Break, but never mind that!. So, this is a really evil chapter and death threats are accepted. It's Lómine's fault! She gives me evil ideas and makes me read evil stories that make me homicidal! But I accept the death threats!

Review reply time!

**Gozilla**: Thank you for your compliment! It allowed me to lure Lómine in and make her visible! Hope you enjoy this chapter as much as the last one!

**Hyperactive forever**: Thanks for your understanding, the muses have given me lots of ideas and this chapter begins huge amounts of angst. Twin angst. The real angst will start in 2-4 chapters though!

_Lyn _(whomever you may be): Thank you for reporting the typo. You know how it is. Hands too slow for brain, fingers get all muddly and press the wrong keys, spell check catches them not. I have fixed it and I do now have a beta who will start her job in a bit! Glad you enjoyed it!

**Joee1**: Here's the next one! The plot bunnies and the muses have been working hard to ruin the lives of my beloved characters! Not much detail on the hunt, plenty of detail on the danger though, and a few hints about what pranks the elves created!

And here 'tis, our sadistic creation. The next one will be shorter, but I'll probably put the one after it up in the same day!

Papercut

_Why does it feel like night today? _

Elrohir felt like he'd been thrust into a starless dark.

_Something in here__'s not right today_

No amount of pranks had cheered him up No amount of hilarious sights made him laugh. As they set up camp, he didn't even smile. Even at the sight of his brother, soaking wet, the dye sticking to his alabaster skin. Or the way Legolas absentmindedly rubbed his ankle, a constant reminder of the irreplaceable sight of him hanging upside down from a tree branch.

_Why am I so uptight today? _

He should be happy. He should be relaxed. Yet something he couldn't identify tore at his heart. A feeling he couldn't presume overshadowed all.

_Paranoia__'s all I got left_

He'd felt this way before. But when? The eerie sensation of deja-vu crept over him. His adrenaline rose.

_I don__'t know what stressed me first  
Or how the pressure was fed / but  
I know just what it feels like  
To have a voice in the back of my head  
_

He didn't know when he'd suffered like this. But all he did know was that the feeling brought back the darkest of memories. His skin tingled, it felt like some curious being watched him--from within. The horrid sensations all seemed to blend. The tingling skin, his sinking heart, the deja-vu, the prying eyes. He felt so bare to their gaze.

_It__'s like a face that I hold inside  
A face that awakes when I close my eyes  
A face watches every time I lie  
A face that laughs every time I fall  
_

He closed his eyes, trying to fight the sensation: it only grew. It was hard to describe, impossible to identify. Elrohir felt like curling into a tiny ball to shield himself from the mental blows it delivered him. It hurt more than any form of physical torture he'd ever experienced. A slender hand flew to his dark head and he began pulling at his long hair.

_(And watches everything) _

And whatever hurt him so, saw. And it laughed, prying gaze taunting. Never relenting--it watched. And he couldn't tear the gaze away.

_So I know that when it__'s time to sink or swim  
That the face inside is hearing me / right beneath my skin_

He knew this voice, these eyes. It was all so familiar. But the memory he searched for was locked within. And he didn't have the key--it did. Soon the time would come. Whatever It so joyfully anticipated could be the end.

_It__'s like I'm / paranoid lookin' over my back  
It's like a / whirlwind inside of my head  
It's like I / can't stop what I'm hearing within  
It's like the face inside is right beneath my skin  
_

It writhed within him. Elrohir let a quiet moan escape him. No, not let--was forced to.

_I know I__'ve got a face in me  
points out all the mistakes to me_

The gaze of his friend and twin turned towards him and he felt like smacking himself in the face. He should have fought harder. Elrond's youngest realized he was now a pawn in a deadly game. He was to be the distraction for the two warriors that were currently able to fight. And It taunted his mistake.

_You__'ve got a face on the inside too and  
Your paranoia's probably worse_

He tried to convince himself that others felt this way._  
_

_I don__'t know what set me off first but I know what I can't stand_

_Everybody acts like the fact of the matter is  
I can't add up to what you can but_

Elrohir failed. Miserably so. The youngest of the Imaldris twins now felt inferior. It felt as though the calamity of the other two elves was there just to mock him. He collapsed. The slender form curled himself into a tiny ball trying to hide-from everything.

_Everybody has a face that they hold inside  
A face that awakes when they close their eyes  
A face watches every time they lie  
A face that laughs every time they fall  
(And watches everything) _

Maybe they all felt like this too. Maybe Legolas and Elladan just hid their emotions well._  
_

_So you know that when it__'s time to sink or swim  
That the face inside is watching you too / right inside your skin_

Maybe they were anxious too. Maybe they knew of the threat that was near.

_It__'s like I'm / paranoid lookin' over my back  
It's like a / whirlwind inside of my head  
It's like I / can't stop what I'm hearing within  
It's like the face inside is right beneath my skin_

But all Elrohir saw in their eyes was pity and concern. No torn looks. No anguished glances. No paranoia. The only thing that concerned them at the moment was him.

_It__'s like I'm / paranoid lookin' over my back  
It's like a / whirlwind inside of my head  
It's like I / can't stop what I'm hearing within  
It's like the face inside is right beneath my skin_

It hurt so much. The graceful being curled up even more tightly. He wanted nothing more than to hide, to escape. And it felt like he could burst.

_the face inside is right beneath my skin  
the face inside is right beneath my skin  
the face inside is right beneath my skin_

It was inside him, within him. The only place he couldn't run away from. He could. But something kept him there. It was like a chain bound the elf's subconscious to his being. Worst of all, because it was here--he couldn't hide.

_The sun goes down  
I feel the light betray me_

_  
_Anor began to set and he remembered. The bright light disappeared and he recalled. It was to late. Much too late. (_sun)_

_The sun goes down  
I feel the light betray me_

He knew when he'd felt this way before. How could he have forgotten? Celebrian. The orcs. The day she'd been taken. Something had taunted him for letting her go. Someone had filled his mind. He saw a face and he finally knew. Who it was he had to hate. But it was much too late.

_The sun  
It__'s like I'm / paranoid lookin' over my back  
It's like a / whirlwind inside of my head  
It's like I / can't stop what I'm hearing within  
It's like the face inside is right beneath my skin  
I feel the light betray me_

And keen elvish eyes saw them as the last of the warm, bright light disappeared and stars began to speckle the sky. Yrch. He tried to shout a warning but no words came out. And then he was free.

_The sun  
It__'s like I'm / paranoid lookin' over my back  
It's like a / whirlwind inside of my head  
It's like I / can't stop what I'm hearing within  
I feel the light betray me  
It's like I / can't stop what I'm hearing within  
It's like I / can't stop what I'm hearing within_

As the huge swarm of the yrch approached, he stood and drew his sword to fight. And as they attacked even though his mind was free. The eyes were still on him. (_orcs)_

_It's like the face inside is right beneath my skin_

Other A/N: Hope you all enjoyed it, I accept constructive criticism, compliments, comments, and death threats, and feed flames to my muses' pet dragon. The next one should be up nice and soon!


	6. The Art of War

Disclaimer: The pretty elves aren't mine! sobs

A/N: Hello readers! This is a very short chapter, but I will have more up as soon as possible! I hope you are enjoying this story! Me and the three visible muses don't know what you think unless you tell me. Isn't that right :Lomine, Melme, Saire nod.: They give me all sorts of ideas. This one is Lomine's fault. I want a review for each person who reads this! So review, pretty please with ten cherries on the top! Also, thanks to my amazing, yet lazy beta! (Hey Michelle!)

**Hyperactive forever**: A little more angst in this one...Glad you like it! The big angst is soon...In the first chapter of the next book which starts in three chapters!

**Alariel:** Glad you like! Hope you enjoy this chapter!

**WildBlackWolf and Civia** : Glad you think so! Enjoy!

_Adsh_ (whomever you may be): You are right. That is out of character, but there is a reason for that. A reason to be revealed soon

**Crazy-haldir-fancier** :Glad you're enjoying it!

**Vicki Turner** : Funny...I got the review alert but your review didn't show up. So happy you like! It was called Papercut because of the song it was done to.

Chapter 6: The Art of War

The sound of clashing swords rang through the valley-turned-battle-field. The three elves had quickly decided a battle strategy, and it was a sound plan. Legolas had darted to a hill, grabbing two extra quivers of arrows. Elrohir had taken one side of the field and Elladan the other. The Mirkwood Prince fired volleys of arrows at the vile creatures while the two young Peredhils hacked away at the enemy with swords and blades. Keen sapphire eyes never strayed too far from the identical half elves, lightning quick hands swiftly dispatching any orc that threatened them.

Elladan sliced through the neck of yet another orc. The long sword he fought with wove intricate patterns of doom in the bodies of his enemies. With the skilled prowess of the warrior he most certainly was, Elrond's eldest destroyed orcs. With dainty footwork, he dodged and delivered fatal blows. The glamhoth struck at him with ugly blows meant only to kill or cripple. But this was not the way of The Firstborn, thus it was not the way the fair elf fought. He fought elegantly, a belligerent smile illuminating his face. Elladan focused on his front, over the years, he had learned to trust the bow of Legolas with his life, as had his brother. The only thing that had ever struck the twins with him playing lookout had been arrows, but there were no archers among the orcs - they were safe.

Elrohir was a scholar - not a warrior. But years of training can replace most of what belligerence and passion can give one. So he was skilled. He had always favored his blades, the patterns they wove in the air had intrigued him as a child, and the efficiency and the almost artistic flair they added to battle had declared them his favorites as he grew older. Now the delicate patterns his twin knives created were imbedded in the bodies of fallen yrchorcs. Glowing in the starlight, he used his beloved weapons to create death. He had never shared the love for fighting his twin had, but the almost poetic battles he had seen over the years had swayed him into a sort of fondness for the art of war. The fighting was methodical, after all, those years fighting still left him impassive. Yet impeccable footwork and lighting quick hand motions had been programmed into him by years of training. It took little thought and no effort to dodge an ugly blow from a scimtar. So he did not think, instead he just did. Sharp Elvish hearing picked up the sound of an arrow sinking into a body behind him and Elrohir made a mental note to thank Legolas later, and the graceful elf continued to fight.

The Prince of Mirkwood flung arrows into a sea of orcs. Glamhoth fell with each arrow. The darting motions of his slender hands disposed of more and more enemies. His skill with a bow was legnedary. The first time he'd been allowed to shoot one, the perfectly fletched green and gold arrow had found its self in the center of the bulls eye. Since he had been the tiniest elfling, the fair being had loved watching his father practice on the archery range. He could sit there for hours, just watching skilled hands shoot arrow after arrow into the center of each target, gather the arrows and shoot them again. And the watching had paid off. It took him very little time to learn the proper technique, and then he had set about perfecting it. Now, with grace and skill, the lithe being stood, shining with the stars and sending volleys of arrows at the enemy. The scimtar of an orc was lifted to strike Elrohir and before the vile creature even realized his presence, it was dead. Keen sapphire eyes noted each motion of the goblins, and the skilled archer knew exactly when an orc became a threat to one of his friends. And Legolas did not allow his friends to be threatened.

The three elves together were a force to be reckoned with. Much of the enemy had met an end at sharp blades and arrows of Elvish make, and the hope that had been absent when they were first attacked returned fitfully. Yet the battle still raged. The green grass around them was littered with dead glamhoth (they would have to be burned) but plenty still remained to be bested by the clashing of metal or felled by a quickly notched arrow. There remained battle to be done.

The expert warriors had much more skill than all the orcs combined but there lays strength in numbers. The elves were, and had been, greatly outnumbered. But the skilled bow of Legolas sang its somber song of death, the great sword of Elladan clashed, and the knives of Elrohir danced. Enemies fell. Enemies fought.

Quite suddenly, a slender figure silently crept onto the highest hill. The delicate form pulled her bow tight, a smile crossing her fair face. Nay, disfiguring it. Unseen, she let a single arrow fly. No quiver adorned a narrow back. With great pleasure soothing, celadon eyes watched as the emerald arrow pummeled towards its intended target. A slender hand let loose flowing, golden hair. And there she stood. Petite form hunched wickedly, pale hair swaying, darkly grinning, pale green eyes filled with the purest of evil. Melime.

A darkly fletchered emerald arrow tumbled through a raging field of war. Orcs slaughtered each other in the confusion. And in the midst of a ring of glamhoth, a dark haired warrior fought with knives. Suddenly the goblins behind him broke apart and an arrow slammed into his left side. Sharp wood pierced flesh and bone as the graceful being hit the ground. The point of the arrow found its self buried in the soft soil beneath him. Black locks spilled across the grass and blood gushed from a new wound as Elrohir Peredhil fell.

With that, she disappeared.

A/N: OOH...What have I done? Have I killed our beloved Elly? Well at least you know who to hate now! You do...They don't. :Evil bracesy smile: They trust the evil thing completely. Well...You'll find out a lot about her and her boss soon. Now how many of you suspected her? Be honest now...Death threats, comments, compliments, and constructive criticism are all accepted at that little button that says 'go'. Do click it. I don't read minds. Wish I did. Don't.


	7. All Through the Night

Disclaimer: I'd love to own it all. But I don't. And I don't make money. So don't sue.

A/N: I have made a lot of assumption when it comes to the ability of elves to heal. I have assumed that elves can recover from injuries that would most likely kill mortals, if they were cared for properly, and I have assumed that an elf could survive minor damage to the lungs. I am now including the status of anything and everything I am working on in my profile, so if the chapter seems to be lost somewhere, check there. I will tell you if I'm just suffering writer's block, or over-inspiration (That's where I write a new story a day), or the chapter's freakishly long and I'm taking an eternity to copy it, or if my beta's feeling lazy . . . She doesn't like this one . . . It took her only a day to get to beta'ing "Too Late" . . . Unlike the last chapter of this . . . Speaking of said beta! A big thanks to Michelle (Insane Vampiress). And thanks to all of you who reviewed! You guys inspire me so much!

**crazy-haldir-fancier**: I know she's horrible, I know. Yes, the amazing Elrohir is in trouble, but I have very helpfully told you what happens in one very long chapter. Eeek! Cheating on Haldir? Run! Run!

Liz: I'm glad you decided to review. Well, you can persuade me, but my muses have other ideas. This was supposed to be a really short chapter. . .Well, this chapter tells the tale!

**Silvertongue**: I am very glad you like it, and very happy that you think it is good!

Tinuviel: It's great to have a new reader! I'm glad you liked the descriptions! I knew those muses were good for something besides making me squirm at my own writing. . .Hehe, yes, the death scene. That was Amarth's doing. That muse of mine works more than all of the other ones combined. . .

**Misticheero**: You're evil too! High five! Yeah, beating up your favorites is just too much fun! Here is the next chapter, and I hope you enjoy it! Glad you think this rocks! Psst, the biggest twin angst will come at about chapter ten. . .

**WildBlackWolf and Viva:** Time to find out and see!

**Empath89**: Well, you'll find out more about why she is murderous soon. . .Sorta soon. . .I'm glad you are enjoying this, and here is the next chapter

Chapter 7: All Through the Night

The moment Elrohir's plummeting form hit the soft earth, the hoard of goblins ran into the woods. A soft moan escaped the lips of Elrond's youngest son and two worried elves rushed to his side.

"That is no yrch arrow." Legolas immediately spat. Instead of the pure black monstrosities glamhoth used the arrow was a deep emerald, only the feathers and point were raven. (_orcs)_

"True, 'tis no arrow of yrch. What is it, mellon? I shall kill it with my bare hands." Elladan was eerily calm, like the eye of a violent storm._ (orcs)(friend)_

Legolas knew he would hate to be at the receiving end of that rage when it struck.

A glance was exchanged and the Prince of Mirkwood grabbed a firm hold on the fallen Elf's shoulders, holding him to the earth. The raven haired Noldo's slender hands flew to the shaft of the arrow that produted from the back of the form so identical to his own. Bright eyes, sliver and blue, met and without further action the elder twin pulled.

A cry ripped through the valley as the arrow was torn from Elrohir's flesh. Then, consciousness was lost to him once more.

Elrond's eldest hoisted his unconscious, mirror image into the air, Legolas took the emerald arrow from the ground, and side by side the two walked to the camp battle had driven them from, silently. The graceful Elf's limp form was gently deposited on a previously unrolled sleeping mat, his tunic carefully cut away.

Elladan ran his hands through his brother's raven hair as his companion applied antiseptic and cleansed the wound. He stared desolately as he gently applied a salve to the injury. Blue eyes locked with his before strong arms lifted the fallen Elf into the air. Slender hands grasped a roll of bandages, which he tightly wound around his brother's chest.

Finally, the golden haired prince spoke, "That shan't be enough. It pierced his rib cage. Eru only knows how much damage it did. We must hurry."

Elladan replied with a hollow glance, his silver eyes speaking volumes. "Carry him. I know if I do, I shall fall."

"I shall do as you bid me mellon-nin." Muscular arms pulled the limp form of the raven haired twin to his chest, carefully avoiding his injuries. (_my friend)_

The reflection of the bleeding form in the golden elf's arms fell silent and began to walk. It seemed that the pain his twin felt had ben cast upon him ten-fold. In body, heart, mind, and soul.

No laughter cheered the passage through the woods. Trees whispered words of comfort to the pitiful triage, but none helped. They went on, like mourning angels in the moonlight. And fiery tears shone in the eyes of the eldest young lord of Imladris.

The emerald leaves rustled softly as cold wind began to chillingly rush through the forest, and tearful silver eyes rose to meet previously un-noticed storm clouds. 'Ai, Elbereth. All we need now is rain.' He miserably thought, and soft words unwillingly passed his lips, "Ely can't handle a storm . . . "

The near silent whisper was not lost on the Mirkwood Prince. "Ai, Ell. He is strong. And we shall protect him, Ely will make it!" Sapphire eyes shifted to the slender form cradled in his arms, "You're not leaving us, Ely," he proclaimed, "You are not." And then the rain came pouring down. Legolas struggled to shield a battered body with his own and keep moving at the same time. He would not let Elrohir die.

The canopy of leaves filtered some of the heavy rain out, but leaves filled with water would tip, and no canopy is solid. The limp form the golden Elf carried grew wetter by the moment. Elladan watched helplessly as the rain battered his twin's unconscious form. The Prince of Mirkwood shielded him, fighting to take each blow for himself, but found little success. And all he could do was watch, tears mingling with the rain on his face.

The sympathetic trees did their best to protect the trio. They looked so pitiful. Long, wet hair plastered to their necks and backs, clothes sticking to soaking flesh. The Elves were so like a funeral precession. Solemnly gliding and glowing in the rain. The bleeding form in the arms of one, shivered in pain. It was hard not to commiserate.

A steady pace through the rain wore the night away. The fair beings were exhausted by battle and trek alike, yet they kept walking as dawn cut through clouds and darkness. The steady drumbeat of the rain began to calm, and then subsided. The forest was plunged into a ghostly calm, water dripped from the boughs of the tress above and droplets of rain shone with the silver light of morn. Newly cleansed earth was soft and wet. The aftermath of a storm washed over the wood.

"We shall arrive within the hour," Elladan rasped, soft voice breaking through an eerie silence. "Is he, is Ely, alright?" he shakily voiced.

"He hangs on, mellon, he clings to life." The fair prince replied. Once more, he gazed at the trembling figure in his arms. Elrohir was so weak, so vulnerable, a poor semblance of the powerful being he was. It hurt to see him such. Blood had long ago soaked through the bandages that covered his wound and the tunic that did little good at protecting delicate skin from the cold. Pain was chiseled on every inch of a beautiful, ageless face. How hard to see him such. (_friend)_

Mighty oaks and redwoods gave way to slim birches and saplings as they neared forest's edge. A few mounted guards met them, eyes wide with shock. The strong hands of a warrior received Elrohir's limp form and the horse he rode broke into a fierce gallop. Someone draped a dry cloak over the Mirkwood Prince's soaking form and offered him a mount. Legolas could feel eyes on him and turned to see Elladan hollowly staring. His friend had been given a horse and wrapped in a warm garment as well. The golden Elf reassured his friend with a warm glance and rode on ahead, emerald arrow firmly clenched in slender hands.

A slow, short ride took them into the heart of Imladris. As soon as two soaked, exhausted Elves dismounted, they raced for the healing wing. Worried eyes bored into the stern figure that greeted them at the door.

"Is Elrohir alright, Adar?" A worried Noldo demanded.

The blue eyes of his Sinda friend repeated the question.

"You shall see him when you bathe, change, eat, drink, and preferably rest. You should be in a presentable state." The stern healer simply replied, silver eyes not belying the battle within.

"But what if something happens before!" Elladan argued.

"I guarantee he will be alive when you return," Elrond cooly stated, though it took great effort to deny his son the privilege of seeing his twin. Suddenly, keen eyes spotted the bloody emerald object in the golden haired Elf's fidgeting hands. "Legolas, what is that?"

"The arrow." The Prince of Mirkwood simply replied.

Something hollow in the young prince's eyes scared the Peredhil lord. He understood that the fair Elf worried for his sons (Elrohir's injury and Elladan's apparent breakdown). But there was something more. "Are you alright, Legolas?" The Lord of Imladris gently asked the Elf that had become something of a son to him.

"I'm fine-" The Sinda stuttered, "-'Tis just-" He broke off, "-I did not wish to hunt anything but the killer. But something compelled me to say yes. Like I had no control." Pale blue eyes filled with yet more sorrow.

Elrond's eyes darkened. He pushed the thoughts out of the way for the time being. "You should examine the arrow later." He just stated. "Mayhap you shall find a clue. Your eyes have ever been especially sharp, even for our kin."

The two Elves walked off shoulder to shoulder, knowing they would not be admitted, and that any amount of arguing would simply keep Elrond from the side of his youngest son longer. Misery seemed to seep from each pore of the graceful duo, who had again resumed the guise of fallen angels mourning, but they walked on. For the good of their brother, by blood and by soul, they walked on.

A slender figure emerged from the room which they had been forbidden to enter, her golden hair pulled neatly from her attractive face. "Heru-nin, I see you have declined the true reason for which they are kept from your younger's side." (_My Lord)_

"I could not have them worry more, Melime. And besides, it would only give me more to worry about. I have seen to it that a sleeping draught shall find its way into their drinks. It will keep them out of the way as I operate." He replied with a sigh.

"I know, Heru, it is far too risky as is. His lung was damaged, was it not?" She gently prodded.

"I am afraid so, not too severely, but enough."

* * *

Warm water soothed an exhausted body, though worry still wracked the foggy mind. Wet golden hair drifted on the soapy water as slender hands lathered still more soap over dirt-blackened skin. It felt as though the rain had carried with it dirt, soaking his graceful form in grime, not water. Allowing himself no time to enjoy the bath, he clambered out of the marble tub and wrapped himself in a towel. Legolas dried long hair and dressed, returning braids to still soggy locks.

Meanwhile, a raven haired Elf allowed the warmth to sink into an elegant body. Heated water lapped over his tired form, soothing tense muscles, yet lacking the ability to soothe a tense mind. He did not allow himself relaxation. A foggy mind still clung to the sight of his brother's fallen form. And he did not bathe long. Elladan let the steam wash over him for a minimal amount of time, allowing himself only to caress his slender form with a bar of soap and wash the suds away, taking with them all the dirt. He dried long, dark hair and dressed. Hands darted to wet raven tresses and wove the familiar and intricate pattern of braids. Then Elladan went to wait for his golden haired friend.

Legolas left his room to find the mournful Noldo awaiting him. The two walked to the dining hall in awkward silence. The air seemed stretched thin, and pain reflected between two erethreal beings, yet comfort was found.

The eldest son of Lord Elrond had not realized how famished he was. Forgetting grace and manners, he shoveled well-cooked food into an eager mouth. The savory dish before him seemed to calm him, and Elladan became certain it was drugged.

Starving, the Prince of Mirkwood also piled tasty morsels past rosy lips. 'When one is worried about someone,' he thought, 'they do not notice what ails them.'

The servers waited until the two Elves had finished eating, then they brought out ornate goblets of wine. The beautiful, welded-gold glasses were set before the Noldo and the Sinda with a flourish.

The two friends drank eagerly, and suddenly, the room began to swirl around the weary beings. Silver and sapphire eyes locked in a knowing glance. 'How many times can one Elf be drugged in one household?' The Prince of Mirkwood thought as darkness took them.

Two guards came forth. One of them took the golden haired Sinda in powerful arms, and another lifted the raven haired Elf into the air. The forced sleep upon them, they were carried to their chambers and deposited on feather beds.

One of the guards walked mechanically down the hallway. Stopping at a door, he knocked rhythmically three tunes, paused, and knocked two times more. The door swung open a crack and silver eyes peered through.

"They sleep, Heru-nin." My Lord

"Excellent. I could not have them worry more."

"How does the Young Lord fare? If I may be as bold as to ask."

"Elrohir is strong. He should pull through. I shall have finished by the time they wake."

The warrior bowed his head and walked away.

For hours, Elladan tossed in a fitful sleep. Beads of sweat formed on a dark brow as nightmares he could not escape tortured him. Silver eyes remained wide open, the horrors he saw mirroring in their glassy surface.

_"Elrohir!" He screamed, running through the forest, but his twin was nowhere to be found. The raven haired Elf felt empty and incomplete, like half of him had been cut away. "Ely! Please! Where are you!" _

_A horrible laughter rang through the woods. Melodic and beautiful, yet full of evil. Sweet and bell like, yet filled with dark intent. _

_"Ell! Help me!" His twin's voice rang through the trees. "Help!" _

_Long legs propelled faster as the Noldo raced towards his brother's cries. After seconds of frantic sprinting, a gasp escaped parted lips. A cloaked figure stood over Elrohir, loaded bow pointed at his heart._

_The raven haired Elf failed to stifle a cry of horror, "Ely! **No**!" _

_Then the creature let go of the string. . .And vanished. _

_Elladan dove to his brother's side. Lifeless eyes stared up at him. "No! Ely! No!" He cuddled the still-bleeding form. So lost was he in the sea of grief, that he did not see the shadow creep behind him. Then all went black. _

A golden head thrashed violently on silken pillows. Blue eyes stared out, shock filling the deep twin pools. Once again, he found himself in a web of nightmares. But now, he couldn't wake.

_Water dripped from the ceiling of the dank cave they seemed to have gotten lost in. Legolas would never admit it, but he was scared. Elladan, Elrohir, and Legolas had set out with the Lord Glorfindel. The mighty Balrog slayer was far more than an additional skilled warrior in hostile land, but a well loved companion. Where was he now? There were too many tunnels. The Prince of Mirkwood looked over at Elladan, or rather tried. The pitch black cavern allowed him to see nothing. _

_"Legolas? Ely, Glor, where are they?" The graceful Elf asked._

_"They probably just took a different passage." The golden prince bantered, trying to sound more confident than he felt. _

_"That's what probably happened, right." Elrond's eldest uttered nervously, trying to convince himself that what he said was true._

_Suddenly, a choked sob tore through the dark expanse of the cave, followed by a hypnotically melodic female voice. "There, there. Shush. I'll make all the pain go away." _

_A silvery male tone sounded, pleading, "No! Please! Just let us go!"_

_"He's been good," the misty voice simply replied, "Let him have his reward." The sickening sound of a knife tearing bone was heard, then screams of pain. Then all fell silent, and only the soft sobs of agony - mental and physical - could be heard._

_The sounds seemed to come from everywhere at once. The pained sobs continued, and a now rasping voice begged for un-granted death. _

_Elladan's grey eyes were wide with shock. Tears began to flood his face. 'The crying - the one we first heard - It was Elrohir." _

_Legolas grabbed his friend's arm and in the direction from whence the pained sobs now clearly came. The sight they came upon was forever branded upon his immortal soul. _

_The chamber they had entered was lit by many torches, and a chain hung from each square foot of the ceiling. And four of the chains suspended the mutilated bodies of their friends. Elrohir was gone. His tattered form moved not. But Glorfindel's shattered body shook with pain and sobbed in agony._

_"Please. . ." He whimpered, "End it. Make the pain stop." The defeated Balrog Slaver gasped for air. "Then Legolas, save Elladan the pain of fading." Glorfindel instructed carefully and painfully, "And then - save yourself the pain of losing them. And the agony of getting caught."_

_"Mellon-nin, are you sure?" the Prince of Mirkwood gasped._

_"Send me to Mandos once more. The Valar shall not punish you for ending our agony." Blue eyes begged for a release._

_"Mellon. . ." The golden haired prince replied, unsheathing his knife. "Good-bye." Taking a deep breath, he plunged cold metal into the heart of the Golden Lord. Taking the bloody knife, he wiped it on his cloak. _

_Silent strides carried him to his grieving friend's side. Elladan still stared relentlessly at his twin's mangled body. "Ell?"_

_The Noldo did not reply._

_The Prince of Mirkwood embraced the broken Elf. "Mellon. . .Are you still with us?"_

_"He doesn't even look like me anymore. Half of me has been violently torn away." He hollowly voiced._

_"You shan't be torn long, mellon-nin. I shall make you whole again."_

_"Please take the pain away." _

_"I shall. See you in Mandos, Ell." With that, the knife ended a broken life. _

_Cradling his friend's body, he cleaned the metal. Setting Elladan's lifeless form elegantly down, he removed his cloak and folded graceful hands on his chest. The tip of his knife picked the locks that held two tortured forms to the ceiling. Using his cloak, he covered Glorfindel's limp form. Elladan's shielded Elrohir from visibility._

_Then Legolas Greenleaf Thranduilion, Crown Prince of Mirkwood, lay down next to a row of three deceased Elves and thrust a faithful knife into his bosom. Thus did his soul flee to Mandos. _

The effects of the sleeping potion began to wear off into light dreamless sleep. Nightmares ended, leaving two Elves to fitfully sleep. Soon forced slumber was ended and they woke, minds on the shadowy figure that had danced bloodily through their dreams.

Legolas woke first, panting in the throes of a hellish nightmare. He frowned at his now disheveled appearance, muttering something about having to bathe constantly to maintain his dignity instead of staying with his injured friend. Taking the smallest amount of time possible to make himself presentable, the golden haired Elf left the chamber to find the brooding Noldo waiting outside his own door once more.

"Pleasant dreams?" Elrond's eldest asked gloomily.

"Simply lovely. I killed you." His fair haired companion bleakly replied. "And Glorfindel. And me."

"Was it to spare us pain of some sort?" The raven haired Elf chided, raising an eyebrow.

"I. . .Yes. You, to spare you losing Elrohir. Glorfindel, to put him out of his misery. Me, to keep me from feeling the guilt. " Legolas sighed.

"You didn't mention killing Ely. And what misery? Who hurt them?" the older twin mused.

"She did. The things She did to them in mere minutes were unspeakable. The results of weeks and weeks of torture," whispered the Prince of Mirkwood.

"So you saw The Cloaked Lady too?" Elladan murmured.

The fair Elf nodded, "Not so much saw though, as heard. . .Her voice - It was the mistiest and most mysterious thing I've ever heard."

"Same with the way she looked. Mist ridden, mysterious, beautiful. And pure evil," the Noldo recalled.

Now the two Elves stood in front of a different door - One they both feared to open. A glance was exchanged and Legolas slowly stepped forward and slowly twisted the knob.

Inside, Lord Elrond sat, staring at the prone form on the bed.

"Is he. . ..?" his son asked.

"He is alive ion-nin," the masterful healer replied. "But - His left lung was damaged. His breathing needs to be monitored constantly." _(My son)_

"Aiya. . ." the golden haired Elf murmured, "Will he make it?"

"He should," the Lord of Imladris stated. "But there is always a chance. . ."

Elladan set himself on a chair near the bed, "I'll watch you all night long, Ely. All night long."

TBC

A/N: Sooo. . .Did you like? No evil cliffie! Do review. Though this took a long time, it is up, and I have started the next chapter, which will be up much, much faster. I really need to hear your thoughts, ideas, predictions, etc. . .So please submit them at that little button. Thanks to all of you who reviewed last chapter! You were a huge inspiration!


	8. As I SayNumb

Disclaimer: Tolkien. Tolkien. Tolkien. I'd kill to own Legolas, Glorfindel (I will feature him soon! And he will stay featured forever once I feature him!), Elladan, or Elrohir (I do not think he would like to be owned by me though...Wonder why?) But I don't. Damn!

IMPORTANT A/N: Well, most of it is important. The beginning of this chapter was inspired but the song "Guernica" by Brand New. I would have used the lyrics for the first part, but they do not have phones, batteries, or wrist-watches in Middle Earth. And symbolism would have been just too confusing for such an important chapter. However, that does not mean it would not be the perfect thing to listen to whilst you read the first half! To understand a lot of the things you were meant to know by the end of this chapter, you need to remember minute details from the last chapter, so if you have any doubts at all about how well you remember it, rereading is recommended. I hope you all enjoy this beyond vital chapter! It is the second to last chapter in this instalment of the story, and once I think of a title for the next instalment, and an overall name for this little trilogy, I will post it! As always, reviews are much appreciated. Big thanks to my beta Michelle and her perfect grammar! Keep in mind that I wrote this chapter from a paragraph before the song with a hundred and one temperature, so if it seems a bit weird – that's why. Thanks to everyone reviewing this, you guys are truly awesome, and inspire me SO much!

**Deana**: Thanks! Yeah, poor elves. You'd think being adored by me would have some perks...Yes, scary nightmare, creeped me out in the least...my muses are jerks. Here's 8! Hope it was soon enough! Oh, who am I kidding, it was so not soon enough, but it's here!

**Mysticheero**: This chapter should be doing a lot of out-of-dark-bringing. Exams...Yech. 15 mins. yech. Hope you didn't get stuck in traffic! Here is "the honey"! Hope you enjoy!

**Empath89**: Thanks! That is such a sweet review! Compliments are always appreciated. I'm so glad you like it! Here is the next chapter!

**Hyperactive Forever**: Yes, dreams. Creepy. They won't come true...just my scary OC who you guys know nothing about as of yet showing her strength! Me, kill the twins? Now what makes you think I would ever do something like that? Like Elladan angst, do you? This story was made for you...just one more chapter after this, and you'll know why. Here's the update!

**WildBlackWolf and Viva**: Yes, elves do need some sleep...laughs sinisterly Isn't that wonderful...Here's the next chappy!

_Joslin(Whomever you may be):_ Here's the update!

Chapter 8: **As I Say/Numb  
**  
Elladan stared at the wretched figure on the bed. This could not be his brother. This could not be the twin he cherished. The face he stared into looked nothing like his own. Silver eyes were tightly shut, a fair face etched with pain. Even unconsciousness seemed to offer no escape from the agony. This could not be his mirror image.

The elder twin felt stern silver eyes bore into his skull. He knew the intense gaze well. Not turning his raven head, the grieving elf spoke. "What is wrong, Ada? Three times anor has risen and set and he shows no sign, for better or for worse. If he were to die, he would have left us now. If he were to live, he would have shown some improvement. What is wrong?"

"Ion-nin, that is what I have come to speak of. As I have said, the assailant's arrow slightly injured his left lung. The damage to his lung is mild, though his breathing still needs to be monitored. But he has lost much blood. Elrohir has survived worse. Something is keeping him from healing. There is a bind of sorts stopping him from escaping to Mandos or recovering."

Silver eyes flashed with rage only Elrond's eldest was capable of showing. "Then I shall take this bond upon myself and then proceed to kill whatever casts it." A fair face held iron resolve. Nothing could possibly stop him now. The Lord of Imladris was powerless to change his mind.

"Adar, I know that you have the knowledge required to cast whatever binds him to me. Do it," the younger elf snapped.

Power, leadership, and willfulness filled those misty eyes. Elrond knew that his oldest cared not what he said. Elladan would save his brother. No matter what the cost. If he did not cast the bond between whatever had injured his youngest and Elrohir to him, the willful being would find a way to do it himself. 'No' would not be taken for an answer . There was only one thing left to say, "Yes. I know, ion-nin. And I shall."

"Good," the young Peredhel replied, "Tell me what to do."

"Put your hands on his heart," the half-elven lord instructed, "I will do the rest."

Elladan obeyed, gently placing his hands on just the right place of his brother's chest, "I am ready."

Elrond placed a hand on his younger son's forehead, and suddenly, Vilya became visible. The Ring of Water flashed brightly and a brilliant light consumed the Peredhel.

Almost instantly, pure agony overtook the elder twin. It was like white fire rushing through his veins. A scream tore through his throat and filled the halls of the Last Homely House. Blue bolts of lightning ricocheted through his flesh and Elladan was wrapped in a ball of electricity. Long raven hair snaked through the air as if on its own accord, and the hands on his brother's chest twitched, but did not slip away. The slim elf was pulled into the air, nothing but his hands making contact with anything. Agony...it was the purest. A halo of violet lightning crowned him, and then he fell to the waiting floor.

The power of the bond left the mighty Lord of Imladris dazed and engulfed in the light of his ring. For a moment, he stood motionless and vulnerable, unable to help his son.

Elladan lay on the ground, slender form still writhing in agony as the bond took hold of its new host. His long, dark hair fanned out on the intricate rug beneath him, and graceful hands clenched, frantically seeking something – anything – to hold on to. After several moments, he stopped thrashing and slowly struggled to his feet, "Ada?" the young half-elf asked softly, dazed from the sheer physical pain he had just suffered.

His son's feeble voice broke the spell. "Ion-nin! Are you alright?"

"I am just fine. That was just...a little worse than I anticipated, that's all." The raven-haired Noldo smirked.

His elder nodded knowingly just as the door burst open and a fair-haired elf flew in.

"The arrow!" Legolas exclaimed, "It is hollow! There is a message inside!"

"What does it say?" the eldest twin whispered excitedly.

"'Fate fulfilled,'" the Mirkwood Prince darkly replied, "'Fate fulfilled."

"Fate fulfilled! I'll fulfill fate! I'll tear the creature that did this to shreds with my bare hands!" the raging warrior proclaimed, "I want vengeance."

"Then claim it. Please," a new voice pleaded, this one was high, silvery – it almost seemed translucent. The melodic tone suited the golden-haired female, it allowed expression perfectly. The soft sound gave birth to the green-eyed, creamy-skinned, dark maiden's lies. It was the honey masking the true form of her serpent's tongue. "Please. Kill it. For Elrohir. Go and destroy this beast. Tear it limb from limb. Go! Track it! Go back to the place it committed its darkest crime and find where it disappeared into the trees! Go! The three of you, all so dear to him. A father, a brother, a friend. I beseech thee!" For a second, her celadon eyes turned a dazzling, all-consuming emerald. The power within the two orbs was infinite, the true wisdom and the pain that comes with it definite. And kindling was added to the fire of vengefulness of two young souls.

The Lord of Imladris opened his mouth to protest, and Melime's pale eyes once more filled with a being that was not her own. The stubbornness of two beings contested with that of one. After a long and futile struggle, the mighty Peredhel heard the mistiest voice he could imagine in his head, "Descendant of Finwe, do not fight me. I am older and more powerful than you, with all your years and wisdom can fathom. I am beyond the reach of even the likes of you, bearer of Vilya." A few more moments, and Lord Elrond succumbed to superior will.

"But what of Elrohir?" the elder twin shakily asked, "Who will look after him?"

"I shall care for my young lord. My healing knowledge may not be fabled, but it is existent," the blonde simply quipped, "I leave the vengeance for you." And then, in her thoughts, she added darkly, 'And your brother, I keep for myself.'

"So it is decided," Elladan firmly stated, "We set out within the hour."

And set out they did. A row of gaunt, silent figures leading horses into the forest through a silver dawn. Though in their state they could not see it, the beauty of the morn was great. The sky was still a pale, cloudy abyss of grey-tinted white. Grass, leaves, and flowers alike shone with a radiant, silver dew that was set aglow in the pale light. All was silent but the occasional chirping of morning's last cricket and the gentle rushing of a shimmering creek.

The three elves stood out in the new-born morn's fair gleam, their green and brown tracking clothes were dark against the pallor of dawn. But as the minutes faded one by one, so did they. The newly-reached forest's lush leaves and dark bark hid them from sight.

Dawn was over and true golden morning sent rays of bright light filtering through branches and cast a brilliant play of shadow and light on the entire wood. The resilient rays that snuck past the canopy illuminated wild flowers and stalks of fresh Spring grass. The stern row of elves wove their way through the awakening surroundings and closer, towards the glade where a battle had not long ago been fought.

'Perfect,' Melime thought as she surveyed the now-bright surroundings. 'Three hours. By the time Elladan learns to understand the bond and knows it is me, I'll be long gone. And Elrohir will be gone with me.' She looked around warily, 'But no. Better to be safe than sorry. Once they are further, I will be safer. In about four hours, the preparations for the funeral services of my victims begin – then, I will remain unnoticed.'

The silent hours passed as the three elves reached their target. Amongst dead monsters, they searched for the path of an arrow that had flown not long ago. Though the blood spirits were not darkened, a hilltop higher than most singled out. Upon it lay only one thing, a black feather wet with the rain. Tied to it was a soggy piece of wood, upon it were carved only two words, 'Guess who.'

Elladan's eyes darkened as suddenly, the bond opened to him, and the feelings of the creature he was connected to were known. Never had the elven royal felt such nothingness. A heart with no love, a mind with no dreams, and a soul with just darkness. The emptiness began to seep into him as realization's window was opened, but the raven haired Elf was oblivious to opportunity as he struggled to keep the blackness from bleeding into him. His only hope at retaining his feelings and sanity quickly found, Elrond's eldest grappled to find out who it was that his soul was chained to.

Whatever this thing called itself, it was robbing him of soul, of sanity. He could loose his brother, his twin, his _other half_. And he felt nothing but murderous need for vengeance. And he knew, he knew that not all of the lust for crimson retalliation was his own. Not even that of the monster bound to him. Some other creature, something much, much bigger than himself.

The bond was still new to him. How much of the other's mind could he invade without being conquered? When he closed his eyes, he envisioned himself on a clif, edging towards doom step-by-step. And then, just as he was left with the futile remains of balance, he knew.

Sense suddenly returned to Elladan as he fully and completely knew what was happening at that exact moment. As his agony returned, silver eyes widened and the young lord simply crumpled to his knees, black feather clutched to his chest. "'Tis Melime," he whispered, horrified, "She's the one who killed the Ellith, and she is taking Elrohir."_ (elf maids)_

The eyes of his friend and his father filled with the horror his held, and Elrond's eldest regained his strength and resolve. Almost in a single motion the three elves mounted the steeds they led and galloped into the woods.

It took little time to reach the elven refuge on horse-back, but by the time they reached Imladris, the whole palace was a blur of commotion, and Elrohir's sick-room was empty. It took every bit of Legolas's lighting quick elven reflexes to catch Elladan as he collapsed. And for the first time in centuries, the raven-haired elf sobbed.

A/N II: Sorry for the lateness, but everything in the world has tried to stop this from going up. Being grounded, moving, illness, internet not working... Basically, everything short of the world itself ending. Good news though, it's here and plus, the world didn't end! YAY! Please, please, please review, it kinda bugs be that I'm on the author alert of people who have never reviewed anything I've written, I wanna know who you are! And remember – all feedback is invaluable! And...just for the heck of it, a chocolate Legolas to anyone who reviews this. Bye 'til next chapter! And after that...well...if you thought THIS instalment had any angst...sinister laugh fades into the distance


	9. Price to Pay

Disclaimer: And if I owned them. . .

A/N: I know this took forever and a day to update, but here it is. Yes, this is the last chapter of "Of Blackest Hate" but this is part one of a three part story. The next one will be called, "Of Darkest Desires." I write this author's note at 12:38 AM of November 6, 2004. Any further delays are to be blamed on my lazy and wonderful beta, who we shall now take a moment to thank from saving us all from my horrific mistakes. Thank you to all of those who have kept reviewing, and remember– reviews are my drug, my picker-upper, and my ultimate weapon against writer's block, which has been a cause of this delay. And for all those of you who read and did not review...Bad reader! Do better this time– the next installment will be up more quickly and you will be free from this suspense I have left in my wake sooner!

Joee1: You'll see how it turns out. . .in a while. . .a long while. Hey, if there's a way to persuade you, go ahead and let me know. Your reviews are _always_ appreciated.

Hyperactive Forever: I have my own odd grudges, but go ahead– I have time to listen. In fact, I enjoy hearing just about anything. Especially if it's in a review. . .::nods suggestively:: Well, here's what happens– you're probably going to hate me. Thank you for your comment.

Daeomae: I'm glad you like, her e is the update!

Chapter 9: Price to Pay:

The grey clouds shifted, blocking the newly risen moon that marked the beginning of another sleepless night for the many citizens of Imladris. Three days and two nights of constant searching for Elrohir had now passed. Night three was just beginning.

Elladan was in a torment, constantly pulling on the bond he'd had since birth, and the newly imposed bond with Melime, panning for a location. Nothing. There were faint sparks of recognition when he walked through the woods– but no more.

He knew where Elrohir had first awoken, and where, he knew sweet oblivion again. The raven- haired elf would go on long excursions accompanied by only Legolas, horses in tow. He would find remnants of the path and his fair-haired friend would map and memorize them, urging him to concentrate on finding more. In dark times, the Mirkwood Prince could be just a little_ too _good natured and optimistic.

Day and night had no meaning now. They continued in a never-ending cycle of light and dark, agony and lack of reprieve, frustration and lack of breakthrough. Elladan was honestly unsure of how much more of this torture he could take. This was his _twin _for Eru's sake! His other half!

Elrohir was so terribly injured, and so helpless. And yet, he was the one captive. While he– the elder, the more eager for danger, the more belligerent, the _unharmed_ –was free. Had he known such guilt before this? Maybe when he had pushed his brother out of the tallest tree within a half-a-mile of the Last Homely House and nearly killed him.

Elladan made a silent and secret oath to do anything at all possible to save his twin. No one knew. No one would. No one had the power to stop him.

"You brought me the wrong twin!" the cloaked woman raged, retreating deeper into the shadowed cave that temporarily hid her from the world. The misty voice was shrill. "I need the one with the bond!"

The blonde trembled, fully aware that her mistress had power enough to destroy her, "Am. . .mm. . .min hir. . .raetha," she stuttered, the confident liar who had remorselessly preyed upon the week of Imladris was lost, in her place stood an undisguised, gradually broken, stuttering, terrified being who had retained nothing of her former self besides intelligence and a conniving mind.

"Lady Hithwen, the other will come– if we threaten his brother he will trade himself for his freedom!" She confidently burst, "Plea. . .plea. . .please don't b. . .be a. . .angry," remnants of the proud, faithful elleth that once was had flashed through her fearful, deceiving puppet of a replacement. But as always, the realization had returned near instantly and sunk in just as fast– She was nothing. A shell of smiles and charms her Lady could channel power through at her almost best. But those moments, the moments when the Lorien elf that had existed before captivity, torment, long-ago cast spells, and monthly potions flashed through had become her reasons to live.

"You are sure, Melime? You are sure he will find the way? You understand that I must have him? I must have the strongest child of the union of two branches of the house of Finwe!? I will have my just revenge!" Intensity radiated from her acidically bright emerald eyes as the hood of the cloak slipped from her head. Frustrated, she flung the garment across the room, leaving her too-slim form clothed in an old fashioned gown the exact hue of the cloak she'd cast away.

The body she'd worn for centuries was almost elven, but few elves could carry a grudge for as long as she had and retain every bit of its heat, and the hate she carried showed. A face that should have been beautiful was forlorn and hateful at the same time, the eyes stormy, and the too-pale cheeks were slightly sunken. Long raven hair fell to her knees untended, and bangs fell into her acidic eyes. The light of the Maiar was utterly gone from her, and all that remained of her existence was power.

"Yes, m. . .m. . .m. . .my lady. He will come. I am c. . .c. . .cer. . .tain. We'll br. . .ring him to y. . .your mountain. He. . .he w. . .will not be f. . .found until 'tis m. . .m. . .much too. . .too l. . .ate," she murmured.

"Good. He is perfect. There will soon be more in this world like you," the Maiden of the Mist pushed a lock of hair out of her face with a bony hand and smiled a ghost of a smile, "Finwe's house shall lose a warrior. You know it should have been Celebrian, that night you were brought to me. The great-grandchild of the mighty Noldo king should have fallen into my hands, not into the hands of a din horde! Why were you so loyal? You could still have been real."

The blonde hung her head in shame, and no answer came. She had chosen this, this life, so that another would not have to live it. And sometimes, she loved her own evil. The dark elleth left the room without a sound. It was time to prepare.

Elladan's silver eyes lost the empty void that had filled them almost instantaneously. The pale orbs widened as the trail he'd so struggled to find formed itself in his mind. Hope. "Legolas," he hissed, "you have your bow?"

When his friend quickly nodded in reply, the elder of the twins added, "Good! Follow me!"

"You see it?" the Prince of Mirkwood asked, leaping onto the back of the horse he'd been leading.

"The entire way. . ." his raven-haired friend confidently and somewhat proudly drawled, before following suit, and mounting his own steed, "We'll get Elly back. I know it."

The pair followed a rather dodgy, flickering trail through the woods. Elladan copied Melime's route exactly. From paranoidly doubling back, to circling trees– he mirrored every ridiculous step, his golden-haired friend following each somewhat unnecessary turn.

The darkened elleth knew how to avoid detection– not a mark, not one foot print or hoofprint was left to mark the road she'd used –the kidnaping had been planned down to the wind-speed of the day. But the bond that she'd readily opened left a map written by the perfection of elven memory to be used. Elladan was grateful– there was no way he would have otherwise found this.

The Noldo knew he was most likely walking into a trap. One that could easily cost him life and freedom alike– the latter being more likely. Though he was immature– one would have to be a fool to find Elladan dim-witted –and it would take a someone of unusually low intelligence to think he hadn't been shown the way for a reason.

Was it to get him out of the way, the one person who had all the connection that could free Elrohir, or was it to lead him into a fate similar to his brother's? Elrond's eldest knew not. What he did know, was that twins had a duty to each other unlike any duty in the world. This duty, this bond forged before birth, was one he would give anything and everything for.

Legolas knew and understood the dangers of their more-likely-unfortunate-than-not escapade. A challenge, an adventure. The Mirkwood Prince relished the thought, the odds stacked against them in yet another battle. Nothing new. They'd been through this so many times before. They'd go through it many times again– or so he hoped.

Melime, or whomever she'd betrayed her home and lord for, had controlled that vast multitude of orcs that'd come at them– when by her "somewhat" unusual ability –they'd been convinced to hunt. And they knew and understood without a shadow of a doubt that the Black Arrow had flown from her bow. But by no means was it hers– it did not bear the colors she had always patronized. She was not represented by black and forest green.

Since before her coming to Imladris, Melime was known for her eternally favored chromacity of silver and celadon. Always. Who did she serve? Who was powerful enough to control so large a din-horde? The leagues fell away as Legolas pondered the many questions.

Quite suddenly, Elladan came to a sharp halt, "We need to leave the horses here, the place, it's just beyond those trees– silently now."

With the great stealth and soundless grace only elves can hold claim to, the pair approached the clearing towards which Elrond's eldest had driven them all along. The soil was relatively bare besides several patches of dried grass, and the randomly strewn rocks. But the small cave contained within the stone shelf, the small cave that trees hid from all eyes was as familiar as ever.

"So she took her hiding spot right out of our memories. . ." Elladan whispered. When they were but elflings, the three had developed the notion of running away, after hearing the tale of Turin Turambar. After many terrifying hours of wandering through the dark woods in circles, they'd come. . .here. To this very place. It'd served as a shelter for the night, and a cherished play-place fore many years after.

"The circling and the doubling back. . ." Legolas added, "That was the exact route we took all those years ago when we first came here, why?"

"To toy with of course," came the familiar voice in a completely unknown tone. Evil, playful, dark.

Melime. And behind her, no less than four-dozen, burly men, well-armed to a fault.

A new voice sounded. Mist, forest, and night rolled into sweetened darkness, "Melime– let_ me_ handle our visitors."

The too-slim female approached the elder twin soundlessly. A bony, long-nailed hand clasped Elladan's chin gently– the way an adult would act with a child who was not paying attention to a lecture –and her emerald eyes locked with his, "I shall give you two alternatives twice-descendant of Finwe. You risk the lives of yourself, your injured brother, and your lovely friend in a full fledged battle against the warriors I have trained since near-birth– they've nowhere near the skill of you and your companion, but, ah, there is strength in numbers. Or, you can trade yourself in. Your brother and friend shall go free and unharmed."

The raven-haired elf sized up the opponents before boldly placing a hand on his sword, "I choose war," he plainly stated, "War." The emerald-eyed woman yanked her hand from his face as if his smooth skin burned her.

Try first, despair later. A worthy mantra.

Silver eyes flickered to the petite, golden-haired elleth that unexpectedly began pushing through the crowd of warriors, dagger drawn.

The well-ordered lines parted before her, and the path remained clear for the two elves to follow– which they dutifully did. To the very mouth of the cavern they went, and Melime stopped next to Elrohir's unconscious form, which had cruelly been suspended from the stony ceiling. "Well, since the two of you are planning to die– we won't be needing him anymore!" The silver, emerald encrusted dagger flew to a white throat.

"No! Stop! Don't!" Elladan flew back to the emerald-woman's side, "I offer myself."

"You are sure," she stated, more a comment than a question. A wise and wistful smile crossed her face.

"I offer myself," he repeated. "He is hurt, he is my brother, my twin. He needs me now. I offer myself."

The blade flew instead, to the rope that had held Elrohir upright. Legolas dove to his side and caught his friend's tumbling form before it hit the ground.

Elladan turned to his friend as he allowed his wrists to be tied behind his back, "Take care of him for me, Legolas. Promise you will take care of him."

"I promise," the Prince of Mirkwood simply replied as he pulled the frayed ropes from the younger twin's wrists.

Keen eyes missed nothing as the dark group mobilized with their new prisoner. The two elves exchanged another glance and Legolas did not take his eyes from his friend's slowly disappearing form once as he whispered something to Elladan's steed and climbed onto his own horse with the unconscious Elrohir in his arms.

A/N: Review! Please! (Beta's Note: Sorry if I missed any errors.)


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